The World Is My Ashtray.

A few years back I wrote a poem on Love;

As the only thing in my mind was then to get some love,

The poem was entirely about love, love and love,

I loved to love, wanted to be loved, love, love and love.

I posted it on my picture, on my resume all the way above;

My cries, my demand, my insanity was heard all the way above,

‘Care, sympathy, and friendship’ fell upon me all the way from above;

I got all but wanted more, so I went to fight all the way to Above.

Then someday later I wrote a poem on Won And Lost;

As the only thing in my mind was then how I lost,

The poem was entirely about my failure and there also I lost;

How I had won a lot of things and a whimper to make me lost.

I posted it on my picture, on my resume all the cries of cost;

My cries, my demand, my insanity was still heard at my cost,

A lot, hope for ‘care, sympathy, and friendship’, did cost;

I knew I wouldn’t get but still wanted more and more at whatever cost.

Then I left writing poems and not because I had nothing to title;

But because the only thing to write I knew was the title,

And that was ‘something’ in pretentious persuasion of some title;

I didn’t want anything thereafter from myself and Above, but my fame title.

Love, Won And Lost on my picture, on my resume made me so little;

That my cries, my demand, my insanity to be heard had become little,

‘Care’, ‘sympathy’ and ‘friendship’ I got a lot from all around but was too little;

Like and Unlike November heat or June cold that term wasn’t little.

Then recently one night I wrote a poem on what can be best called Nothing;

As the only thing in my mind was then not random but nothing,

In a country of a billion my name, my fame, my fain and my pain were nothing;

I was caught in rain and lightning, I didn’t feel love but nothing.

I didn’t post it on my picture, on my resume still marked though that for me was everything;

My cries, my demands, my insanity weren’t there heard or unheard but rest of everything,

I didn’t want Care, sympathy and friendship and those weren’t anymore everything;

Not ‘lost little love title’s cost for who remained above wasn’t just nothing’ I learnt but everything.

I drank, doped, drugged and smoked and on those my heart is set;

The world is my ashtray and absence of my swayer is my cigarette.